The adventures of Manic Man, and Bipolar Boy......

So, I live in a house that is rife with mental illness.
It is not something that is exactly horrible, but it is not pleasant either. If I were an anthropologist, it would be a great thing to observe. Unfortunately I don't just observe, and I am not in fact an anthropologist. I interect in this atmosphere daily.

What would you do if the loves of your life were ill, beyond their control, and with really no cure? What would you do if no matter what you did, you ended up on someones shit list daily?
What if the person you offended most, was someone who came from you?

I have to answer these questions every.single.day.
Obviously, it could be much, much worse, and I should thank my lucky stars that it is not much worse.

I am often at the end of my rope, waiting for someone to kick the chair out from under me. Often I feel as though I have just got done with a wartime battle, only to realize I will have to go through it all over again the next day, and the next, and the next, etc....

I wonder if I will suffer post traumatic stress disorder after all is said and done, or do I suffer from it already?

Wednesday, I will be putting my child on medication. The child who's hands are now almost as big as mine. The child who has a good heart, but dodgy brain chemistry. The child who I would give my life for. The child who drives me crazy, because I love him so much, and he rebels against my every word. The thought of my growing child on meds that no one really knows what effects they cause, scares me shitless. The thought of coming home one day to a dead child, scares me more. It is the lesser of the two evils.

I feel the need to escape. There is nowhere to go though, because I am needed, and I love them, warts, pimples, faults, and all.

Would I change any of it? Maybe. I would only change the small things, like me, and how I react to all of this. I would put myself on my own drugs much earlier, and I would not wait until my child was 6 to get him to the doctor.

I guess I would I change me, because I would not want to change my two loves. No matter how fucked up their brain chemistries may be, I love them for it, in spite of it, and because of it.

Life is a mixed bag of uncertainty certainly.